


Waiting for His Alice

by lunarsilverwolfstar



Category: Alice in Wonderland (Movies - Burton)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Dream Sharing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-11 02:45:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7024069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarsilverwolfstar/pseuds/lunarsilverwolfstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It hadn't registered before, but seeing her in such dull clothes made him realise the vision of colours he'd seen earlier. She was <em>the</em> Alice. The Alice who knew him, but he didn't know her, not yet, not until he met her when she was younger and he was older, and then again when she was older and he was even older. No, but that wasn't quite right. <em>He</em> knew her from when <em>he</em> was younger and <em>she</em> was older. Older as she was now. <em>This</em> is the Alice he met, had known, had meant to know, all along.</p><p>Warning: Spoilers for <i>Alice Through the Looking Glass</i> ahead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Almost-His Alice

**Author's Note:**

> WOW. I haven’t written this much in under 24 hours in a _long_ time. This was all inspired by my friend, Nia-chan. We were chatting in the car in our post-Through the Looking Glass high, and while we like to pretend kisses totally happened in certain scenes, she came up with a _brilliant_ idea as to why Tarrant wouldn’t have kissed Alice. So, Nia, this is for you!

Tarrant Hightopp leaned in, resisting the urge to nuzzle the yellow curls, and whispered, "Fairfarren, Alice." Her lips were temptation incarnate, but he held himself in check. Tarrant had never practiced so much self-restraint, even when trying to reign in his madness after his family was slain by the Jabberwocky. Not when the Bloody Big Head took over Underland's rule. Not even a few minutes ago, when he had almost killed Ilosovic Stayne.

Before starting his transformation, Absolem had confided in the Hatter that Alice was  _ almost _ ready to be  _ The _ Alice. Tarrant had been ecstatic. When he saw her riding on the Bandersnatch, he thought so too. However, right now, looking into her eyes, seeing the conflict and the way she looked at him as if she still couldn't quite believe he was really real, he knew this wasn't  _ his _ Alice.

He watched as she dissipated, much like Ches, and reminded himself the past couldn't change. Alice would be back and maybe then they could begin their future.

\--------------------------

Tarrant loved roaming the market of Witzend. There was a little of everything, especially for one such as him! Feathers, buttons, silk ribbons, threads of every colour of the bowrain and then some! Everything a proper hatter needed to make all kinds of hats. But not the kinds of hats that were really proper, according to his Father. He felt his smile turn upside down and turned around, only to be glomped (for that was the only way to describe such an embrace) by a strange girl.

Oh, but she was a beauty, not that Tarrant ever cared for such things. But with yellowish hair that glowed in the sun, sporting a rather fetching outfit, and a smile that lit up like a thousand fireflies, there would be something wrong.

"You're bonkers, aren't you?" he quipped, walking away, from the girl, from the feelings that were fluttering around in his chest and stomach, as if the bread and butterflies had decided to attack his very being. He couldn't help but remark, "All the best people are." And, oh, why did he have to say that? He shouldn't be encouraging such nonsense or so Father would tell him. There wasn't an ounce of regret in his eyes when he saw something brewing in her brown eyes, something…  _ muchly _ .

Either way, he let the yellow haired girl to the main hall of Witzend, where the Princess Iracebeth was to be crowned and tried to hold in his giggles. Oh, but this was going to be so much fun!

\--------------------------

'What a lovely yellow head!' Tarrant thought. He would so like to hat it. However, he hadn't begun his apprenticeship with his Father quite yet. Still, he had started and would show his father tonight. Until then, Father could hat her until he perfected the trade and only then would he present her with the most perfect creation for the most perfect head.

Tarrant had been carrying around his creation for the better part of a week and change (Time was tricky when one was so young), lacking the Courage to present it to Father. Wherever Courage had gone, it was back! At the sight of this beautiful lady, he was overwhelmed and knew Courage had also brought Confidence with him.

Later, in his room, sobbing with only Sadness and Sorrow for company, he realised he had never gotten the lady's name. This made the tears flow further downriver.

When Father knocked on his door, he sniffled and tried to wipe the traces of salty drops.

"Did you get the fair lady's name, Father?" Tarrant interrupted the apology and promise of teaching him the family trade. This was a much more important matter.

 Father looked at him, confused. "I'm afraid not. She left before I could even hat her. Terribly rude. Wherever did you find her?"

"About and out," he responded. "But maybe she'll find  _ me _ next time!" With that, Sadness and Sorrow made way for Determination. He would become  _ the _ best hatter in Underland and would make the perfect hat for the most perfect head.

\--------------------------

Oh, Tarrant tried to be upset. Really, he did. Stuck at one minute before tea time indeed. He feared that he and his friends would be like this for all of time. This was not what he had in mind when he left home. He didn't even know how much time had truly past outside of this bubble. What had caused him to protect this girl known as Alice, he didn't know. He just knew that she was so much more and that she was important. To him? To his family? To Underland? All of the above or none?

All he knew was that he had to delay Time and waste as much of Him as possible. Even if he was on the outs with his family, if they were really in peril, if she could save him, he would do anything for her. He would wait. She would come back. Until then, it would always be one minute before tea time. Oh, if only Time had affected those darn bread and butterflies.

When a small child with yellowish hair arrived to their table and they were actually able to offer her tea and scones and  _ provide _ them, Tarrant knew he still had some more waiting to do.

\--------------------------

Her voice was silkier than any silk a silkspider could ever have woven and where knocks had barely registered, her tone was enough to send his dreadful, dreary, depressing thoughts into the corner of his mad mind for a moment. Embracing her was the loveliest feeling in the world, feeling her yellowish hair tickle his nose was almost enough to make him forget all his woes. Almost.

Or not at all.

No. No no no no nonononononono!

She was **not** _his_ Alice!

His Alice would  _ believe _ him!

_ His _ Alice would not let the impossible win and she most certainly would save his family because she said she was, she would, she will!

Tarrant thought, in sending this imposter away, he would feel better. Instead, his anger dissipated and he began to feel dazed and any joy he might have felt at the Imposter Alice's return drained and then some.

If his family did not survive, could not be found, why should he?

\--------------------------

"You believe me?" Hope simmered, happiness threatened to boil over, but most of all, it was  _ Her _ . She was Here. She was Alice! She had to be! Even in that drab nightgown and coat, Tarrant just knew it was her. He'd know her anywhere!

It hadn't registered before, but seeing her in such dull clothes made him realise the vision of colours he'd seen earlier. She was  _ the _ Alice. The Alice who knew him, but he didn't know her, not yet, not until he met her when she was younger and he was older, and then again when she was older and he was even older. No, but that wasn't quite right.  _ He _ knew her from when  _ he _ was younger and  _ she _ was older. Older as she was now.  _ This _ is the Alice he met, had known, had meant to know, all along.

Once they saved his family, he knew all would be well.

\--------------------------

Tarrant had been wrong. It was not all well. It was fine, satisfying, happy even. But he had thought to feel ecstatic, exuberant,  _ exhilarated _ when he finally reunited with his family. He was definitely ecstatic to be with him again. He was exhilarated to have had had such an adventure! He was exhilarated that his family was  _ alive _ . He was not, in fact, the last of the Hightopp clan!

However, he was  _ not _ ecstatic, exuberant, or indeed exhilarated to have Alice leave him once more. Bereave, bereft, and bare of any such feelings other than heartache, heartsick, heartbreak, and a smidgen of Hope. For there was always Hope or else where would he be? A Hatter without Hope was a heavyhearted Hatter indeed. And a Hatter with a heart so heavy could not bear to be moved by anything ever. But there was always Hope, something that seemed to be lacking in his  _ almost-his Alice _ .

He didn't have much Time (wasn't that always the story?) and he always meant to give her a token of his affections, so he did so now, in as few words as possible. Clinging to her hand, Tarrant uttered, with as much confidence as he could, "In the Gardens of Memory, in the Palace of Dreams is where we'll meet again."

This time he wouldn't let her go without a fight and Tarrant held onto her for as long as he could, until she disappeared through the looking-glass.


	2. Dreams and Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "In the garden of memories, in the palace of dreams, that's where we'll meet."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading my little fic! Honestly, this got much more response than I anticipated! Which is to say, none at all, lol. With the exception of my friend, of course. Anyway, I just wanted to know how much I appreciate the reviews, kudos, and reads. I'm so sorry it took me so long to bring this second part, but here it is, at long last. I hope it doesn't disappoint. Once again, _thank you_.
> 
> (I was greatly inspired by these beautiful [pictures](http://lunarsilverwolfstar.tumblr.com/post/145646150317/miss-mandy-m-succulent-garden).)

Brown eyes welled with tears and a small chuckle escaped pink lips. It was all Alice Kingsleigh would allow herself as she put down the letter she finished reading. It was either that or go into a fit of hysterical sobbing and she could not afford to let the whispers of her crew be proved right: That she was as bonkers as they thought she was. The respect they held was tenuous at best, even after all these years. It wasn't that Alice cared what other people thought of her, but if she began crying now, she feared she would never stop. Her mother, Helen, would then find her in a fit and would worry the pressure was too much.

Staring at the letter on her desk, she had to appreciate the irony. Of course her first business contract would be with a hatter.

Mr Joseph Todd wasn't a royal hatter, nor was he very well-known through London society. He had been, however, a good friend of her father's. Helen had mentioned him after Alice had told her the story of the Empress of China's love for her small, top hat. Helen had hired Mr Todd to make it for Alice as a going away present. It had been hard to part with it, especially when it reminded her of her dear friend, but Alice insisted she have it as a token of gratitude and the Empress had been absolutely delighted. A gentle smile was all she was graced with, but it was enough.

That gave Alice the idea of sending the hatter a business proposition, along with several other businessmen who weren't as well-known. Mr Todd had been the first to respond positively.

It was no wonder, then, as Alice lay in bed that night, that she had her first dream of Wonderland.

Since her return, she had visited Underland many times in her mind, but they'd all been nightmares, her mind trying to deal with all that had occurred. Her friends falling apart as Time died, travelling to the past and accidentally killing Iracebeth or, worst, Mirana. The Knave of Hearts even paid homage, a man she hadn't thought of since her first bout of nightmares three and a half years ago.

Not once did a certain Mad Hatter appear. Alice had been just fine with that. He had no place in her dark dreams, where bodiless heads floated after her, knaves with frightening expressions paralysed her.

Nor was there any palace. At least, not one of dreams. The Red Queen's castle, on the other hand, always featured in these nightmares, either in the background, lost within, or curled up in a ball, knowing her friends were all about to be beheaded. She even dreamt of Mirana's head accusing her of abandoning all of Underland before the Jaberwocky swallowed the head whole.

Tonight was different, however. Tonight, long after she'd finished her duties on the Wonder and allowed her First Mate, the respected Benjamin Coulson, take over, she allowed her father's ship to rock her to sleep.

\------

_Alice coughed, struggling to breathe. The fog threatened to suffocate her. Still, she continued walking, hoping to find an end to the heavy atmosphere. Maybe she would find a white castle. Or was it red? An empire made of clocks and clockwork people. No, that was real, wasn’t it? And this wasn’t. It couldn’t be._

_“Alice?” a voice whispered behind her._

_Turning, she saw… nothing. Nothing but the heavy grey._

_“Alice?” they called again, this time in front of her. “Alice, are you truly here?”_

_She spun around, even as she gasped for breath. She must be dying, that had to be it. With the lack of oxygen, she was probably hallucinating. There was no one._

_“I think you must be. It’s never felt this_ real _.”_

_“Who are you?” she demanded, coughing from the effort._

_“I didn’t dream with you last night, nor the last, but I dreamt_ of _you. I thought it was really you. Surely you would appear if you were. But ‘tis only a figment of me imagination,” the voice deepened, accent thick._

_That’s when she recognised it. “Hatter?” she called out._

_“It_ must _be you, Alice. In my dreams you only call me_ Tarrant _. Our garden must blooming, at last.”_

_“How do I know I’m not just_ dreaming _?” she asked, softly. She wanted to believe, truly she did, and if she believed in anything, anyone at all, it was her dear Hatter._

_“I built a garden, just for you. Mally suggested picking them, Nivens said that’s what gentlemen in your world do, and I want to be a gentleman for you. But the flowers took such an upfront to it until I told them it was for_ the _Alice. Even though they would perish before too long, they agreed. Thackery was the one who suggested a garden so you could watch life grow rather than let it go.”_

_“Here?” Alice looked around, but still couldn’t see anything._

_“No, silly goose, not there._ Here _. Come to me, my Alice. Follow my voice.”_

_Even though it was still a struggle to breathe and it took much effort, she didn’t hesitate. All at once, colour rushed at her. There was little warning as she was overwhelmed by the sight of greens, pinks, yellows, blues, oranges, purples, whites, and even some reds. It took her longer than she cared to admit that there weren’t just_ flowers _. There were plants of all kinds, including bushes of berries, crops of corn just beginning to grow._

_There was no rhyme or reason to the blendings. They didn’t start at a light shade and finish with the darkest, the fruits didn’t go with the fruits, and so on. That didn’t mean they were without pattern._

_Gasping, she took a few steps back, startling when she felt something warm and solid at her back. Tilting her head, she was met with a warm, green gaze. “Hatter!” she exclaimed, turning to hold him close._

_“It’s you.” His breath ruffled her hair._

_“It’s me,” she agreed, pulling away to look at him properly. When he didn’t say anything for a long moment, simply seemed to drink her in as much as she did him, she uttered, “Oh, Hatter, did you really make this all for me?” She gestured at their surroundings, the rush of colours mixing together to create_ them _._

_His smile was gentle, voice humble, “It wasn’t all that difficult when there are so many good Memories to plant. Even the bad ones gave way to cultivating the good ones. Because it was with you, for you.”_

_ Tears threatened to spill over once again, but for another reason entirely. She looked back and took in the hat-shaped home that was more of a palace than anywhere would ever be. Around it, the colourful plants depicted scenes of their lives, whether alone or together. They hovered over the ground, they shaped the bushes, and it was all theirs. “It’s because you were there too, because you helped me believe in me, you never gave up on me, even when you should have.” She held his hands tightly, but before he could respond, just as suddenly as everything rushed at her, it was pulled away.  _ She _ was pulled away. _

\------

"Alice, Alice. You need to wake soon to relieve Mr Coulson." Helen shook her daughter, bringing her back to the waking world. Taking in her daughter's expression, she frowned worriedly. "Are you alright, dear?"

Surprised, Alice touched her cheeks, realising they're wet. Instead of feeling sad, however, she felt the stirrings of determination and, dare she say, _happiness_ as opposed to the halfhearted attempts she'd been putting the better part of the week. "I am, mother. And it's time I get to work."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, I'm sorry, but there will be one more chapter, because my muse can't rest until there's a proper reunion.


	3. Our Different Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _And people like to laugh at you 'cause they are all the same,_   
>  _See I would rather we just go our different way than play the game_   
>  _And no matter the weather, we can do it better_   
>  _You and me together, forever and ever_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been holding off on this ever since I heard P!nk's gorgeous song, Just Like Fire. As soon as I heard it, before I even knew it was part of the soundtrack, I knew it was perfectly Tarrant/Alice.

_ “Time sounds so dreary Over There,” Tarrant commented, playing with Alice’s fingers, which were twined with his and rested on her lap. _

_ “He definitely isn’t as interesting, but then, I don’t think it’s Time so much as it is everyone else. I have so much to do and I know I can get it done, but at every turn there’s an excuse as to why I can’t.” She growled in frustration. Even the cheery colours surrounding them didn’t do much for her mood. His fingers between hers did help some, however. _

_ “If I were there, I would get them to see you.” He said it so resolutely, that Alice felt her heart swell with too many emotions at once. _

_ “Most people who get a business loan are expected to break profit from one to three years. They gave me eight  _ months _ and told me they were being generous.” _

_ Although the hatter of Underland had no idea how money and business transactions in her world worked, he knew what they were doing to Alice and her mother wasn’t good. He wished… “If anyone can do it, it’s you. You said you could think up as much as six impossible things before breakfast. I have faith that you’ll be able to make the impossible possible in your time frame.” _

_ Alice hugged his arm closer to her chest. She could do it, if only because Tarrant believed in her. Maybe that’s all she needed. _

_ They stayed in companionable silence for a while, Alice shuffling through ideas she hadn’t thought of until her Hatter had joined her in their garden. Tarrant wished he weren’t just dreaming, that he were with his Alice. He was tired of waiting. _

\------

Many people thought Alice was mad, trying to rise above her station. She came from money, true, but she was a  _ woman _ . She never understood what her sex had to do with her dreams. Her father thought she could be whatever she wanted to be. He encouraged her dreams of being a princess, an artist (even after terrible drawing after terrible drawing), a pirate, a sailor, a dancer, a  _ warrior _ . If her father were alive and she'd told him she wanted to expand his business, cross the oceans to China, set up her own shop, and captain their ship, the Wonder, herself, he would have allowed it.

As it stood, Charles Kingsleigh passed away long before his time. Yet, here was his youngest daughter, having set up a shop in China with her mother, Helen Kingsleigh. Helen had once been one of the masses that believed Alice should be complacent with what she had.

This wasn't Alice's way, however.

Even after businesses she partnered up with the last few months threatened to leave (and two actually withdrew), she persevered. She ignored the mockery, the fibs customers or prospective partners fed her. She led on, as if she were walking on a fine line with the Bandersnatch.

Of course, the giant and loveable beast was just like her. He wouldn't be content with walking the line. Together, they would burst through walls and doors.

With a last wave of her quill, Alice let her signature dry. Tomorrow, she would mail her first payment to the bank she'd taken the loan from. Their first, generous profit having come through last week.

\------

Alice looked around, pride and a hint of smugness on her face. She quickly wiped it away when Mr Jacobs approached her.

"Well, Miss Kingsleigh? Is it to your liking?" He sounded annoyed, as if he were wasting his time with her, and had more important things to do than his  _ job _ .

"Hmmm." If he wanted to believe he didn't have a serious tennant, he could. There was little Alice could do or say to change his mind. Before opening a shop with her mother in China, she told herself she wouldn't play into the little games men liked to play. She would be straightforward and relentless. Relentless she had down to a pat. And while she had started off with her heart on her sleeve, she soon realised it wouldn't do her many favours. So, she learned to affect an air of disinterest to things she really wanted. It resulted in more amusing results, the astonishment and disbelief that she broke down all their meager expectations.

"It'll do," she replied.

"Wonderful," he responded, dryly. "If you would follow me to my office, we could get the paperwork started. There's quite a bit to do."

"Splendid," she said in kind, and the man did a doubletake, missing the smirk that had slipped for a second.

He would be in for a surprise when Alice presented all the proper paperwork to open up shop in London. Stepping into the carriage with her mother, Helen Kingsleigh, she gave her a small smile and nodded.

Now that the Kingsleigh shop was established in China, it had been time to head back to her motherland. Helen was missing London and Alice owed the woman so much. Not because she was her mother, though it had a great deal to do with it, but because Helen Kingsleigh had finally pushed away the stigma that followed Alice, pushed away her own fears, and followed her daughter to a foreign land in order to make her dreams come true. In doing so, Helen found herself once again, the strong and empathic woman who had fallen in love with a dreamer like Charles.

Once all the i’s had been dotted and the t’s crossed, Mr Jacobs lets out a chuckle of amusement. "I must say, Miss Kingsleigh, I never would have expected to do business with a woman, an unmarried one at that. You have achieved the unachievable." ‘For women,’ rang silent as he continued his mini monologue about how she broke the ceiling of what was expected of someone such as herself.

Alice tuned him out, biting her tongue, and watched her mother do the same. There was only a huff from the older woman. It still irked her that people were astonished that she had done the impossible, not because it was hard work to open a business in the first place, not because it was difficult to live in another country, making one's way while learning the language, and then prospering enough in such a short time to open up a second shop miles away, but because she was  _ female _ .

\------

_ “But do you not have a queen?” Tarrant asked, baffled. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it, but then again, the White Queen, and her parents before her, had been all about equality between everyone. He thought there were certain exceptions, of course, but was later thankful he didn’t voice his opinion on that. Too much. _

_ “Of course, but she is a  _ queen _ , bestowed upon a god to be above everyone. Other women have no right to think for themselves or to be treated as equal to men, who are not even kings.” Alice raised a finger to smooth out the crease that appeared between his bright, bushy brows. “It makes me  _ furious  _ that I’m an ‘exception.’ Any woman should have the right to do whatever she damn well chooses!" _

_ He really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut. “Dear Alice, of course you are not equal to men-” _

_ Her head whipped up so fast, she almost knocked his chin with her head. _

_ “You are so much  _ more _. Any man would be lucky to simply be in your presence. Or by your side,” he murmured and turned away, his accent thickening. His colouring changed, wardrobe brightening and darkening in some places, different shades of pink blotching his pale face, a little blue around the eyes. _

_ And his irises were a deep amber, she noticed, as she pressed a hand on his cheek to turn him back to her. Without thinking twice, she pressed her lips against his and felt his gasp. Believing her advances weren’t welcome, she took a few steps back…  _

_ Only to be followed, step-for-step. Pale hands, stained with mercury, cradled her face, roughened callouses caressing her with such gentleness that tears threatened to spill forth. Not of embarrassment, but of sheer happiness. _

_ She allowed one to roll down when he kissed her in kind. _

\------

Alice was helping a woman find an apron within her price range when she heard the bell above the shop's door ring. Almost immediately, the giggling and whispers began. Even after almost two years of having established her first shop with her mother and opening their second in jolly ol’ London, she still heard them. Most of the time, they were easy to ignore. Feeling the woman she was helping withdraw, she patted her arm. The lovely Mrs Harris had been received much the same when she entered.

Although China was not much better, Helen and Alice had attended to the working-class for the most part. In London, they just so happened to rent a storefront that was situated in the middle of the invisible line that divided society. She had been warned that it was a bad idea, of course, but Alice was confident that the supplies their shop carried would draw people all over.

She had been right. But that didn't stop the whispers.

In a clear voice, Alice announced, "Welcome and please feel free to look around. I will be with you soon." She nodded at the apron Mrs Harris had and even though it was a couple of pounds over her budget, she wrapped it, accepted the short change, and sent her on her way, the woman smiling brightly while the shop owner answered with a strained one of her own.

It was soon replaced with a look of pure astonishment as her eyes landed on a bright splotch in the already colourful shop.

"Artifice does not suit you, dear Alice." A very familiar top hat was tucked under an arm, revealing a head of bright, curly orange hair.

"Tarrant!" Pushing herself from the counter, she wove her way through the shelves and stands scattered between her and her goal. The whispering increased, but she hardly heard it over the rush of blood ringing in her ears, her heart pounding so hard, she was sure it would bruise her chest.

Without another thought, she threw herself at him, arms open as his welcomed her. She didn't think about the impossibility of his presence here. She didn't think about all the eyes on them, from the people in the shop, to those peering through the windows. She ignored her mother's astonished, " _ Alice! _ " even though she hadn't heard that particular tone uncoloured with amusement in a long time.

\------

Tarrant had learned plenty of patience in his life. He spent more years than he cared to admit looking for his father's approval, even when he told himself he didn't care. He stayed at Thackery's for lifetimes, stuck at one minute past tea time, waiting for a girl with yellow hair. He continued to hang around, in wait for an older girl, a woman who was bonkers and full of muchness. If anyone could save them from the Bloody Big Head, it was she. This was what she meant, she had to save his family, save Underland. Then his family was gone, but he still believed. When a tiny figure appeared at the same table at a darker time than when they last met, he was sure it was the same one he first met. But no, this one was not full of muchess like when she was older or younger. She was still Alice though, almost. Then she became Alice so suddenly, leaving just as quickly.

And that was that. There would be no saving his family. They were gone. It was impossible.

Until it wasn't. But without Alice, how would he save them? The Queen didn't believe him, his friends didn't either. Alice would believe him, just as he believed in her.

He waited for her. And waited. And waited.

But when she came, she wasn't  _ his _ Alice. Not her. She didn't believe him. It wasn't  _ her _ .

He could feel himself fading. With no one left, what was the point? He was done waiting.

Except, once again, Alice proved the impossible was possible.

Her departure left an ache in his heart, but somehow he knew, he would see her again.

He was done waiting. It was time to do the going.

\------

Bemused laughter and outright cruel chortles followed Alice and Tarrant as they stepped out of the court office. Helen stepped outside, smiling gayley, and ignored the insipidness of the ignorant.

As always, Alice heard them too, but for the first time she could honestly say she didn't care. She knew the staring was for many a reasons. Her dress was loud, even in its traditional white, with lace, tulle, silk, ribbons, and a number of beads designing clocks and top hats to match her own small one decorating her head, a short veil on its tail, all lovingly made by her now-husband. It was his suit, as colourful as their flourishing garden, blooming in their shared dream even if they were now side-by-side. It could be his loud, orange curls, a rarity in London. It was their combination. It was her: who in their right mind would marry someone who had long ago been declared a spinster? It was him: why would someone tie themselves to such a strange man.

Their differences, their boldness at actually being excited at being married, enchanted with one another,  _ elated _ that they were finally  _ together _ was much to be celebrated. As they walked through town to a quaint restaurant with only her mother and a few of their favourite customers in attendance for a small reception, in no way because she was embarrassed by her husband, as some thought, or because they had no one else to invite (the number of letters that had ‘politely’ inquired for a date were too many to dare count), but because this was just who she and Tarrant were. They were loud, they were unassuming. They were humble, they were proud. They were them and created their own path that just so happened to match each other.

They might have started off on different parts of said path but, in the end, they realised walking it together was the best way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to everyone who kudo'd, commented, and read!

**Author's Note:**

> The movie hurt me enough. I absolutely adored it, but knew I would need fanfic to get me through, lol. So while I wait for that, this is my contribution. There will be a second part two this because I can't just leave it like that.


End file.
